


Dean Gets What He Needs

by WeezieMcSqueezie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM Scene, F/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:02:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29951757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeezieMcSqueezie/pseuds/WeezieMcSqueezie
Summary: Dean Winchester has a need that he's been burying for years.  Hannah wants to help him explore it.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 4





	Dean Gets What He Needs

**Author's Note:**

> I've written some stuff with a harder edge before, but never a full scene like this. I hope I got it right and I hope you enjoy it!

Dean is nervous. Really nervous. He’s faced death countless times, fought and killed monsters so horrendous that the simple idea of them being real would send most people into psychotherapy. Sharing the secret parts of himself is not something Dean does often and it’s generally only done under extreme circumstances, such as when he or Sam or both of them have almost died or just come back from the dead. This is something far outside of what he’s shared with his brother and it’s something Dean has been ashamed of over the years. He picked up a liking for while during his time in hell. No, liking was the wrong word. He picked up a need for it. It was the only thing that kept him tethered to reality. It wasn’t until it stopped and his tether to reality broken that he said yes to torturing souls. 

Dean and Hannah have been seeing each other on and off for a few years. They are as different as night and day in physical appearance and personality. He is tall, broad and muscled. She barely scrapes 5’2”, is jam packed with curves and soft in all the right areas. He is loud, brash and throws himself into a fight faster than he can blink. She is quiet, studious, and prefers to find a more reasonable solution whenever possible. They are indeed on opposite ends of the spectrum, expect when it comes to relationships. She and Dean had both agreed that relationships are distracting and only made for complications in hunting. It was Sam who convinced them both that Hannah needed to move into the bunker. He knew that if he got them living under the same roof for long enough, everything else would click into place and he was right. Within six months, Hannah had the bunker running as efficiently as if she’d lived there all her life, doling out jobs WITH the research already done and somehow managed to keep them in a constant supply of fresh clothes, groceries and sundries. It made Sam realize that in a perfect world, Hannah would be a working mom, organizing family schedules, packing lunches and attending dance recitals all with the perfectly manicured nails she insisted on maintaining even as a hunter rather than running the operations of an underground monster fighting lair. She is incredible at it and Dean has adapted extremely well to her at the helm. He enjoys knowing someone else was handling the minutiae of the jobs which allows him to just go out and get the job done. Hannah often hunts with one or both of them, but never alone. It’s the one condition Dean insisted on when they “officially became official” as Sam puts it. She agreed so long as Sam and Dean also agreed to the same, which she knows is all bullshit. They’d each take a hunt alone if that was the only option, but they pretend and it’s working for them so far. 

Since this isn’t something Dean is comfortable doing in a motel, Hannah sent Sam, Jack and Cas off to a movie festival for the weekend asking Sam to please not let them near the bunker early. Hannah let Sam believe she needed some time alone with Dean and he loves her for it. That’s not a word they’ve used with each other, but it’s there, bubbling under the surface of everything they do. It’s in every look, smile and touch. It’s even in their arguments. How could it not be? It’s why they’re doing this tonight. Love wasn’t what started this, but it is what made Hannah push Dean fully into this. She saw the need in him and since it is within her power to do something about it, she pressed him. He’d been embarrassed, angry even, but she made him see that it was nothing to be ashamed of. She promised discretion and privacy, and so they started talking. She found a few places they could go, but Dean wouldn’t even consider it. He refused the involvement of anyone else. It had to be just the two of them. She was the only person he trusted with this. So, she went alone while the boys were on extended hunts. She watched then learned firsthand how to help him. 

With each of her sessions, Dean’s anticipation floated between anxiety and lust, but he never asked for details. He was afraid he’d back out if he thought about it too much, afraid he’d be jealous of what she’d done there. There was a point, years ago, that Dean thought the was finally gone, then he took on the Mark of Cain and lived as a Knight of Hell. Ever since, he’d found it harder and hard to push it down. Then one night, four months ago, Hannah did something that changed everything. 

They’d sprung for their own room and were enjoying a hard, nasty, post-hunt fuck. It was a punishing and long hunt and Hannah was a lot more worked up than usual. Getting your ass kicked by a witch will do that to a girl. So, when Dean called her a slut while he was fucking her from behind, the reaction he usually got was nowhere to be found. She had him on the floor and under her so fast his head almost spun off his neck. She’d had his hair pulled tight in her fist and growled, “What the fuck did you call me?” He shivered and said daringly, “I called you a slut.” She whispered in his ear, “Call me that again, and you’ll be punished.” He looked her dead in the eye and said “You are a slut.” She ordered him to the bed and spanked his ass so hard she actually sprained her wrist. It was when asked for the belt, in joking but obviously not joking tone, that she realized this wasn’t a game for him. They didn’t use the belt that night and hadn’t repeated the spanking either. 

“Are you comfortable with everything we discussed?” she asked. “Yes” he said, blushing but smiling. “Go over it one more time” she said leaning back in the library chair. “Traffic light system, green and yellow with red as a full stop. I’m allowed to speak but you don’t have to listen unless it’s yellow or red and we’ve already discussed my hard NOs list. In detail” he said. “It’s a surprisingly short list. I dig that about you, Winchester. Alright. Go get ready and I’ll see you shortly to show you what I’ve learned” she grinned. When he stood up, she saw his erection straining his pants. They locked eyes and everything was communicated in that look. Everything. 

After showering Dean dressed in his bathrobe and slippers and made his way to the dungeon. He chose the dungeon as much for the room it isn’t as for the room it is. It isn’t a place where they shared loving secrets but it is the room he’d been chained down in, the room he was cured in. It was a good fit. He disrobed and set up the table with bottled water, towels and wash cloths, as directed. He hoped he didn’t need to be toweled off, but none of that was in his control now. He then cuffed his wrists with leather restraints and chain before tossing the chain up and onto the hook suspended from the ceiling. In the event of an emergency, he could haul himself up and get off the hook. The woman who was about to beat the shit out of him was also a stickler for safety. He grinned at that thought. “How are you still even a little bit hard?” he asked his half chubbed dick after about ten minutes, “It’s like the arctic circle in here.” 

He heard her heels clicking down the hall and so did his dick, as evidenced by its sudden snap to attention. His back was to the door, and as directed, he did not turn around. He listened to her moving around, heard the zip of her the leather toy bag that had been taunting him in the closet for weeks, and heard her place a number of items on the table. Her heels clicked up behind him and he felt her breath dancing below his bunched-up shoulder blades. If tiny Hannah was reaching his high with her mouth, she must have on her killer black heels he realized. He felt her lips press against his skin in a long kiss and his eyes slid shut. This woman was his everything. Her lips disappeared and he heard a light swoosh, then felt a searing sting on his ass followed by a gentle stroking of whatever she’d used to hit him. Again and again she repeated variations of this pattern on his ass and legs. He lifted to his toes when she slid it between his legs and pressed it against his balls. She pushed it out so he could see the riding crop between his legs. Her lips were on him again, kissing his back as her free hand slid around his waist to his belly. She scraped her nails hard over his skin on her way back. “Fuck, baby” he hissed. 

She walked away and when she came back, he felt something almost pleasant tickling his legs. That pleasant tickling turned quickly into stinging as she landed blows up and down his legs, ass and back. Harder and harder they came and he felt his body getting more and more loose. With each blow, the tension eased out of him. His head was hanging low, eyes closed as she walked around to the front of him. “Open your eyes” she ordered and he did, first seeing her feet. He was wrong. These shoes were killer red heels and she wore absolutely nothing else it seemed. “Nice shoes” he snickered and she grabbed his balls in her fist. “What?” she asked looking up into his face. “I said, nice shoes. Slut” he grinned through is panting and she grinned right back. He’d just given her the green light she needed to ramp up. She stepped back and worked the flogger over his legs, hips and chest. She danced it over his cock a few times before she moved to her next flogger, this one felt heavier on him as she repeated her walk around his body, landing blow after blow until he was breathless. “Status” she said. “Green” he replied instantly voice hitching. 

Shortly after she moved to the next flogger his tears came. “Status” she said. “Yellow. Please don’t stop” and she didn’t. Not until he was in what she later explained was subspace. That’s when she felt her hand on his cock, stroking gently and had no strength to move. He was hard as iron, had been this whole time, and was starting to feel like he was floating. He felt her mouth on him, slowly sucking him in. So fucking slowly that it was more tortuous than any part of the flogging. He felt her fingers dancing along the inside of his thighs and she spoke clearly, “Baby, look at me.” His eyes sprung open and there she was. Naked on the cold, hard dungeon floor, holding his cock in her tiny hand. She was the most glorious sight he’d ever seen and he started weeping again. “Come for me, baby. Come for me and you can be done” and she slipped him back into the warmth and safety of her mouth and suckled him lovingly until he came with a guttural roar she’d never heard from him before. 

Hannah pulled a chair over and kicked off her shoes to climb up. She unhooked his chain then laid a towel on the chair for him to sit. She then gently rubbed him down with a vitamin E lotion to sooth his enflamed skin. After, she massaged his shoulders, arms and wrists which were sore from being held over his head for almost forty-five minutes. “Drink all of this” she said handing him a bottle of water. While he drank, she packed up her playthings. “You only used a few of those things” he said. “Well, you seemed to really like the flogger, so I stuck with that. Didn’t think it a good idea to experiment too much on your first time” she smiled. He finished the bottle and passed it back to her, “What’s with the towels?” “Oh, well, I’ve seen a few men puke at the club. Wanted to be sure we were prepared” she smiled and shrugged. “Did YOU make them puke?” he asked, eyes growing large. “No” she laughed and cupped his face in her hands, “Ready for bed?” “Yes” he nodded and accepted her help with putting on his robe and slippers. 

She tucked him in and came back with pie and Gatorade. “I get pie too?” he said. “Yep. Let’s talk, okay?” she said climbing into bed with him. “How do you feel?” she asked. He chewed and thought about it. Nodding he said, “Physically, I feel amazing. How can this be more relaxing than a massage? It’s trippy. I’m sore and some of the lashes are very unpleasant, but I feel amazing.” She nodded, “Emotionally?” He finished the last bite of pie and moved the plate to the bedside table. After a swallow of his drink he settled down on the pillow and pulled her down with him. They were laying nose to nose and she stroked his face, watching him carefully. “I don’t know how I feel emotionally. Something shook loose, I know that. Shit, you saw me crying. I don’t know, but I think it was good. I feel lighter maybe” he said. 

“If we do this again, what do you want done differently?” she asked. He was surprised by that question. “Baby, you were perfect. You took such good care of me. Gave me exactly what I needed” he said. She sighed, clearly relieved. “Okay, but I really want to know. What do you want next time?” He wiggled his eyebrows, “Wouldn’t mind seeing you in full latex.” She sighed and kissed his nose, “Go to sleep.” His hand slid over her naked hip, “I want to make you come first.” “No, baby. Tonight was for you. Tomorrow you can make me come all over the bucker. We can even do it in Sam’s room” she said. “You are the most incredible woman that ever lived” he said as he yawned loudly.   
She rolled over and clicked off the light before settling in as his little spoon. She thought he was asleep when she heard him say softly but very clearly, “I love you, Hannah.” Her heart soared in her chest and she tightly squeezed the arm he’d wrapped around her, “I love you too, Dean. So much.” “So much” he repeated in a low whisper and he snored softly.


End file.
